


Swallowed A Bad Thing

by faerierequiem



Series: Ronan & Declan [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Blow Jobs, Brother/Brother Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem
Summary: Declan has a less than great day.Luckily, Ronan is there to make it better.
Relationships: Declan Lynch/Ronan Lynch
Series: Ronan & Declan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813231
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a follow up to my lynchest fic "blood in your mouth", but you don't necessarily have to read that one to read this.

With a sigh, Declan tried again after the scanner beeped a red light for the second time. Usually he had no problems with his cardkey, but it didn’t surprise him that today was the day it would decide to start fucking up. It only added to the list of what had made this day feel longer than ever: a tiresome day at work full of interns gossiping about him, stuck in traffic as a result of a tourist bus that had crashed into a car, and now this, stopped right in front of his apartment after he had thought he would be able to easily enter and rest without any more issues. Living in D.C. was a continuous nightmare.

The scanner beeped red again. Three strikes. Or at least Declan hoped it didn’t work like that. He didn’t want to deal with having to make some phone calls to get things sorted out, but when the scanner showed no signs of green agreement the fourth time, he considered making that call for help.

Then, a hand slipped into his back pocket, startling Declan, and he thought he was going to have to punch someone for sexual harassment—before there was a voice at his ear asking, “Guess who?” The fingers wiggled against his ass.

Declan grinned and turned around. At the sight of Ronan, the terrible day became a better day. He moved Ronan’s hand out of his pocket and glanced around the street to see if anyone had been looking. “We’re in public, you moron.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” To his relief, Ronan kept his hands to himself. “Why’s it taking you ten years to open this door?”

Declan’s smile turned into a frown. “I think the cardkey is jacked up.”

Ronan took it from his hand and held the cardkey up to the scanner. The blinking red light was beginning to feel like it had a personal vendetta, but when Ronan tried again, the red became green and the door opened. Ronan handed back the cardkey with a smirk. “I guess it likes me better.”

"Whatever.” Declan stepped into the apartment building and led Ronan up the flight of stairs to the third floor, slapping away his brother’s hand when Ronan rubbed at his inner thigh. Ronan laughed as the scanner to his room responded with a red light. Declan rolled his eyes. “I think I need to get a new one.” He pressed in the code instead.

As soon as the door opened, Ronan pulled him inside, kicking the door close with his foot and kissing him and pressing Declan up against the wall, and Declan was undoing his belt and unbuttoning his shirt. When Ronan saw, he pushed aside Declan’s shirt and sucked at his chest. “That took way too long,” he said.

“You couldn’t wait until Sunday to see me?”

Ronan shook his head. “Fuck no.”

His hand was between Declan’s legs, palming at his dick through his dress pants. Declan wanted to move, to take off all his clothes, to have Ronan’s skin against his, but Ronan had his hand pinned by the wrist to the wall and his other hand was stuck between the press of their bodies. Declan tried to free one of his hands and let out a slight moan in an attempt to speak as they kissed, was only able to say Ronan’s name when Ronan pulled away and was unable to say anything else as Ronan got to his knees and pressed his mouth to Declan’s erection. Even the movement of his mouth through the fabric felt like enough to make Declan come, but he didn’t want to deal with the laundry.

He began to tug at his pants; Ronan becoming aware of what he was doing and pulling it down for him before he slipped Declan’s cock out from his boxer briefs and wrapped his mouth around it.

Declan leaned up even more against the wall and closed his eyes, losing himself in the feeling of Ronan sucking at the tip of his dick, licking down his shaft, and cupping his balls with his hand. He let out a loud appreciative moan. _This_. This was what he needed after a long day like today. And Ronan had improved so much since the first time he’d given Declan a blowjob. Self-assurance suited Ronan in a lot of ways and this was one of them—and then Declan was pleasantly surprised as Ronan slipped his fingers behind him and pressed them against his asshole, teasing and eager.

Declan could’ve came at that moment, but the thought of edging himself appealed to him even more. He wasn’t going to come until Ronan was thrusting inside of him, preferably deeply and quickly until Declan wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore and would consider begging Ronan to stop. Even if the truth was that he never wanted Ronan to stop. He wanted Ronan to fuck him until he made a panting, filthy, senseless mess out of him.

He pulled out from Ronan’s mouth, startling him into a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

Declan pressed one of his hands to the side of Ronan’s face and smiled. “Let’s take this into the bedroom.”

* * *

“Shit. Ronan. Ronan. _Ronan._ Oh my god, Ronan. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Declan didn’t know where the sudden stamina was coming from. Ronan had always been energetic, but this was different. It’d only been five days ago that they’d last had sex, but by the way Ronan fucked into him, Declan would’ve thought it’d been weeks since the last time. Although he wondered where all this pent-up energy was coming from, he wasn’t going to complain. Instead, he savored the satisfaction of Ronan, sweaty and relentless and almost wild, thrusting deeply inside again and again, loving the knowledge that in this moment, Ronan’s complete attention revolved around Declan. This type of fucking made the edging all the more difficult—he had told himself he wouldn’t come until after Ronan had—but Declan loved it all the more for it, the challenge to not give in to his orgasms growing more and more difficult.

He wanted it to be even more difficult.

With a smirk, he asked Ronan, “Can’t you go harder than this?”

This made Ronan pause. Surprise in his expression before it quickly bled away to mirror Declan’s own smugness, but Declan saw by the look in Ronan’s eyes that his question had been effective in winding him up even more—even as he gave a casual retort. “Says the guy who hasn’t been able to stop yelling my name for the past ten minutes.”

“Has it really been ten minutes?” Declan braced himself up with an elbow to give Ronan a pat on the cheek. “You’ve really grown up, Ronan. Remember last month when you couldn’t even handle a minute before you were already filling me up?”

Ronan took Declan’s cock in a hand, rubbing a thumb between the slit. “What are you playing at, Declan?”

Declan played dumb. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Ronan moved his hips back and Declan thought he was going to pull out completely—before Ronan thrusted back in, fucking him sharp and deep and hitting the spot that caused a sound to leap out of Declan’s mouth and made him want to finally lose control. “Fucking come already so that I can.”

Declan laughed. Or at least, laughed as much as he could as he bit his lip, still feeling the leftover tremors from the pleasure Ronan had sent through him. “That’s funny, because I’m not planning on doing that until you empty your cum inside of me first.”

Ronan looked at him, appearing more collected than Declan would’ve thought by the emergence of this new information. He was considering Declan in a way where he could tell that Ronan was scheming something, but Declan was cut off from making a comment about this by Ronan pulling his cock out of him completely, and for a flashing moment, Declan was struck by the irrational fear that Ronan had somehow been turned off by him. The legs he had wrapped around Ronan went slack, allowing Ronan to easily move away.

Oh God, today was a terrible day after all.

Declan swallowed. “Ronan—?”

“Get on your hands and knees,” Ronan said.

Declan was so surprised and relieved by this that he automatically obliged. And then Ronan was fucking him doggy-style. Except that there was no longer a constant rhythm to his movements, the thrusts coming at random intervals Declan couldn’t predict, so that when they did arrive, surprise and anticipation heightened his body’s reactions. Declan throbbed with it. And it didn’t help that this new position allowed for Ronan to hit his prostate more effectively, intensifying the pleasure even more than before.

 _Clever guy_ , Declan wanted to say, but he didn’t have it in himself to speak at the moment, let alone a defeated compliment. It was already too much trying to keep himself from letting go. He pressed his face into a pillow. Fuck, he wanted to come so badly. His stomach muscles were tensed with the resistance not to. And as he was trying to keep his willpower intact, Ronan had the audacity to wrap a hand around his dick.

Declan moved it away. “That’s cheating,” he said, unable to help but punctuate that with an unexpected “ah!” as Ronan fucked into him again, this time grinding against him and drawing out the impact.

Ronan laughed. “I didn’t know that was against the rules.”

“Well, then go read up the rulebook.”

The little bastard must have been able to hear how Declan clenched his teeth through his words, because then Ronan was leaning over him, his chest against Declan’s back, moving his cock into him slowly and consistently now, and pressing his fingers to Declan’s lips. His voice came from next to Declan’s ear. “Open your mouth, Decs.”

Declan opened his mouth, no longer caring anymore. He was at his limit, ready to jump over the edge and give in, and then Ronan’s fingers were in his mouth, playing around with his tongue. Then, he was reaching further in until his fingers were completely inside, going all the way to the back of his throat, and Declan groaned. It felt so good. He gasped in a breath. All of it was so good. Ronan’s fingers. Ronan’s cock. Ronan’s mouth against his shoulder. Ronan’s arm wrapping around his waist. Ronan, Ronan. “ _Ronan_.”

Or at least, that’s what he meant to say, but Ronan’s name came out sounding indecipherable past his hand, and that was the last thing Declan said before he was riding out the build-up of an orgasm way past overdue, his body rocking with the climax as his cum splattered onto his bedsheets for a duration that felt like bliss, Declan’s mind going hazy as he was unable to focus on nothing else but his own release.

When he came to again, Declan realized how weak he was. His legs felt like jello; he was drooling onto the pillow (and had likely drooled all over Ronan’s hand); and he was slumped forward with Ronan being the only thing that held him up, his brother’s hands gripping his hips as he continued to fuck into his ass and wring out even more pleasure into him. It was too much in all the best ways. Something like a whimper came out from Declan’s throat. He was crying a little bit. There was a threshold to how good doing this could be—and thanks to Ronan, he had surpassed it in spades. It left him shaking and wanting more even as a part of him protested against it. He felt exhausted, but exhilarated, and submitted to being Ronan’s fucktoy.

There was nothing else that he’d more happily be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not in the habit of writing fics that are pure, unadulterated smut (i mean, the last fic that i wrote that started out with the intention of only being smut turned out 20k because of that), which is still true in this case, because this is the beginning to a lynchest fic i had brewing that had more going on. but then i did some rethinking and made the decision that this could be a standalone thing. this has been sitting on its own for a couple of months anyways, so it might as well see the light of day and i should make use of it somehow. i know from my previous lynchest fic that there's an audience for this. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i guess the first chapter can be considered the "happy ending" and this chapter is the not-so-happy ending, so you should probably skip this if that's not up your alley. nothing like a cold splash of reality to ruin the party.

“So…” Ronan lay the side of his head on Declan’s chest and peered up at him. “Do I win anything?”

Declan smiled, still floating on a wave of post-sex eurphoria. It took him a moment to register what Ronan had asked. “What are you the winner of?”

“I came after you so I won. You should give me something.”

“In my defense, you only won because you know I have a thing for you sticking yourself in my mouth,” Declan said. “I would’ve been undefeatable in most cases. My endurance is still better than yours and—”

Ronan groaned. “C’mon, Declan.”

Declan held back a laugh and put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. As a reward, you get one wish to be granted.”

Ronan flashed him a smile, a bright and sincere one that filled Declan with a softness, which he tried to ignore as he let Ronan take one of his hands between his. “My wish is to spend the night here.”

“I thought that was a given.” Declan tried to keep the soft feeling from entering his voice, but a little bit leaked through anyways, and he hoped that Ronan hadn’t picked up on it.

He paused, regathered himself, and tried again, keeping his tone lighthearted and mocking. “Think of something else,” he said—although he understood why that would’ve been Ronan’s wish. They slept together, but had never slept over at each other’s place before, because there was no way Declan was going to when Ronan lived at Monmouth Manufacturing, and he’d never asked Ronan to spend the night with him in D.C. It was an unspoken thing they didn’t initiate, a line Ronan had probably picked up on Declan not wanting to cross.

He tried not to think too much into how quickly it’d been the first thing Ronan had wanted.

Ronan sat up, playing around with Declan’s fingers as he thought over a new wish, and Declan couldn’t help but watch him. Before he would’ve had to sneak glances. Now he could watch Ronan openly—even if the urge to look away remained his first instinct, but Declan resisted, taking his time to admire the glistening expanse of Ronan’s chest, the marks he’d left on Ronan’s neck, the line of his jaw, the lips he suddenly ached to kiss again, the fading flush of his cheeks, and Ronan’s blue eyes. They were turned upwards as he contemplated his wish, beautiful and enticing and cruel even when they weren’t meeting Declan’s gaze.

Declan moved, about to pull Ronan into his arms, when Ronan said “let’s go out” and he went still.

The softness turned into ice. This time, he didn’t bother to hide what he felt from his voice as he said his brother’s name, only once and nothing else. A caution sign. He didn’t want to fight. Things had been going so good, but they’d talked about this before. He narrowed his eyes in disapproval, ready to say it all again to Ronan if he had to.

Ronan looked back at him, unfazed. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He raised Declan’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the knuckles. “Show me around D.C. tomorrow. Take me to your favorite spots. Let’s have fun.”

Declan wanted to tell him that he doubted Ronan hadn’t meant it like that, and that even though he was dressing it up in different outfits, it didn’t change the fact that it was the same suggestion, but his heart rate was quickening and he was slow to speak. Ronan beat him with a kiss to his palm before he got off the bed and went to take a shower, leaving Declan staring after him and alone with his thoughts.

He knew Ronan thought he was being a hypocrite who was “making things more complicated than they needed to be.” It’d been one of the first things he’d said after Declan had sat him down to establish the boundaries of their relationship, but Ronan was wrong. Declan wasn’t complicating anything. He was simply recognizing the complications that were already present and that Ronan was refusing to acknowledge.

There was a huge divide between what they currently had and something more. Declan knew. He knew that having sex with Ronan and everything else that they did was already far too much. This past month of coming to terms with the fact that he could go through with it was nothing against years of agonizing over how he had desired his brother in ways he shouldn’t have, so maybe Ronan had been right that Declan was just not ready yet for something more, but Declan was more in the right to suggest that they learn to accept that they never should.

Love and lust were two completely separate things. Ronan hadn’t yet completely grasped that. They could fuck all they wanted, but at the end of the day when they decided to end things, there would be less strings to cut. A relationship was another matter. If it ended, there’d be more strings to cut. If it didn’t end, there’d be even more strings to try and sort through year after year after year. If either of them ever wanted to start a family, it’d be wrong to assume the pretense of uncles or normal dads, and Declan wasn’t going to hide out at the Barns with Ronan for the rest of his life, putting on the appearance of brothers who weren’t fucked up when people came to visit—

Declan squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his face, trying to slow down the multitude of thoughts that grew and whirled around in his head. He thought that Ronan had come to terms with it, but he should’ve known that it’d happened too easily to be true. All Ronan had done was get better at concealing his stubbornness. Declan was going to lose again if Ronan continued to outsmart him.

Hell—Ronan’s smile flickered in Declan’s mind—he was already starting to lose.

* * *

Declan sighed in defeat. He’d thought getting up to finish some paperwork he’d been assigned to turn in on Monday would keep him occupied as sleep continued to evade him, but his focus remained distracted by the tendency to rethink over every single detail of the past couple of hours: walking to the nearby grocery store with Ronan, listening in amusement as Ronan remarked how off the time was for pedestrian crossings (“a minute to cross a small one but only ten seconds for a crosswalk that spans four lanes?!”), going to Ronan’s car so that he could retrieve a backpack he’d brought, cooking and eating dinner together, and finally going to bed after episodes of _Twilight Zone_ , only to end up making out until Ronan had fallen asleep and Declan had lay there, unable to sleep until he had gotten up to sit at the dining table with the paperwork.

He couldn’t even look at the seat across from him, unable to help but think of how Ronan had been sitting there earlier. It was the first time anyone had eaten at his apartment since he’d moved in and he’d liked Ronan being there—even though he’d ended up choking on his food when Ronan had asked him if he’d ever been in a threesome, because he wanted to know what it felt like “to be fucking someone as a third person fucks you from behind?”

At the memory, a corner of Declan’s mouth quirked upwards as he stacked the papers together into a pile to put back into the folder. He left the folder on the table, stretched, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He gulped it down, but paused when he lowered the cup, staring into the sink as he wondered what he should do now.

He could watch a movie, but if his insomnia was going to be keeping him up like this, he wanted to be lying next to Ronan. He put the cup into the dishwasher and headed back to the bedroom, stopping at the doorway until his eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could take in the sight of Ronan asleep under the covers. Declan stared and stared and looked away as reality finally struck him.

He couldn’t let this happen again. It had to be the only time. It wasn’t the first time he’d shopped and cooked and lay in bed with someone, but none of those people had ever been his own flesh and blood, had only been girlfriends and boyfriends who weren’t a brother who wanted to be more. Declan had never replayed every single second of his time with them—as if by doing so, he could live it over again. He told himself that he was only doing that because he should be able to. If this wasn’t going to happen again, he should be able to, but Declan knew it was only a stupid justification when the truth was that Ronan was too different from everyone else and Declan was greedy for more to cherish.

_Don’t get used to this._

Declan realized how hard his nails were digging into his palms, but he didn’t loosen the tension, only tightened his fists even more as he walked to his side of the bed and stood there, deciding. He should’ve walked to Ronan’s side. Or at least, what should’ve been Ronan’s side of the bed, which now held more room than Declan’s own due to how during his absence, Ronan had gravitated towards Declan’s side (more than he had previously been), his head resting partly in the space between their pillows and partly on Declan’s pillow, with one arm stretched out over where Declan would’ve been lying.

Despite himself, Declan couldn’t help but feel amused. It was so much like Ronan to claim Declan’s space as his own. A lot of things had changed, but it helped ease his hands out of the fists, knowing that Ronan was still in the habit of having no sense of personal boundaries when it came to sharing a bed with someone—much like he had when they were kids, but then Declan was reminded of the last time they’d slept in a bed together. He’d been thirteen and Ronan had been eleven. It’d been the countless time that Ronan had snuck into Declan’s bed, but that particular night had been different: He’d gotten hard.

Try as he might, Declan hadn’t been able to convince himself that the cause hadn’t been the close proximity to his brother. It’d confirmed the worrying feelings he’d been pushing back for years. Afterwards, he’d locked the door to his room, refused to let Ronan in when he’d come knocking at the door, and had told Ronan to sleep in his own bedroom, fighting and threatening Ronan until he had finally learned to give up.

Declan gritted his teeth together and pushed the memory out from his mind. They’d been one out of too many that had tormented him for so long, but he refused to let it now. Not when he’d already fallen so much. They were useless now. Unimportant.

The momentum from the spite he felt was enough to solidify his decision. He leaned over; gently lifted up Ronan’s head, pressing a slight kiss to his temple as he did so; and moved his pillow over, enough so that Ronan could comfortably sleep on one end of the pillow, before he lay Ronan’s head back down. Then, Declan got onto the bed, as carefully as he could without waking Ronan up, situating himself underneath the covers, moving Ronan’s arm into the space between them, and lying on his side with his head on the other end of the pillow. He was facing Ronan and before he could think of doing otherwise, Ronan’s eyes sleepily began to open.

Despite himself, Declan felt a flicker of embarrassment. Part of him wanted to protest, to tell Ronan that he had only just gotten here and had not been lying there, staring at Ronan for however long he was thinking, but he bit at the inside of his bottom lip and kept quiet as Ronan looked across the pillow at him. The silence lasted for far too long.

Finally, Ronan moved forward, shifting so that he could curl up against him with his face near Declan’s neck. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Declan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, nice and slow, so that Ronan wouldn’t realize. “It’s hard to sleep when you’re a chronic insomniac,” he said, dotting it with a little laugh to let Ronan know that he was used to it.

“Maybe I can dream up something to help you with that.”

Declan reached up a hand and brushed it through Ronan’s hair. “That would be nice.”

A moment passed and silence settled back upon them. Declan continued to run his hand over Ronan’s hair. It was surprising how quickly it could grow now that Ronan had decided to do so. And Declan knew a lot of the reason was because Ronan had wanted to grow it back out for him. Something tightened in his chest at the thought. Some part of him had forgotten, just how good and thoughtful the brother who had given him hell for the past few years could be, but it wasn’t a surprise to be reminded of that fact. Instead, it was more like being reacquainted with someplace that had once been home to him.

His hand stilled over Ronan’s head. He could feel Ronan’s breath against his skin, warm and even with sleep.

He withdrew his hand, but was startled to a stop at the soft sound of Ronan’s voice. “I had a good time with you today.”

Declan closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.” _I will not let it happen again._ “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fun thing about having a mind is you can go back and change it. my original intention was only to post up the first part, but then i revisited this and did some rethinking and came to another decision that was good with me (even if it might not be so good with others... sorry not sorry but actually a bit sorry). otherwise, this would've ended up sitting unread in a dusty google doc, so i might as well utilize it. all i had to do was write a couple of new paragraphs to tie it into something that feels like a conclusion. the rest i had written a while ago.
> 
> i know this is not the ideal ending and i think that's why i never considered this to be an ending until now. i like happy endings and am biased for ronan's idea of things, but it feels a bit wrong to go against declan for that, so consider this a compromise. this feels more right than me failing to write something about him changing his mind, which is still entirely possible. i'll leave things at this for a reason since it's somewhat of an open ending. you can decide what happens afterwards (and i'll admit, maybe this can spur on others to write fics about this ship *nudge nudge*).


End file.
